


Light and Salvation

by MoiraiThanatoio



Series: Noble Son of Krypton [2]
Category: Men in Black (Movies), Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Early in Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 14:59:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoiraiThanatoio/pseuds/MoiraiThanatoio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A medical condition forces Clark back to Earth and the people he left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light and Salvation

Bracing himself against the shudders that wracked his body, Clark acknowledged that he had definitely taken his invulnerability for granted. Even his short experience with seeming normality courtesy of ‘Superboy’ hadn’t prepared him. The complete absence of a yellow sun, the Kryptonian League inhabiting M-class star systems, brought massive alterations to his accustomed physicality.

Bethgar Kal-El, Sovereign of the League, High Drygur of the Combined Militaries, Tanth Protector of the House of El, wondered exactly why someone couldn’t rig up a personal radiation emitter. They had a wide broadcast range emitter for military use. Invulnerable troops were, after all, highly efficient.

But when it wasn’t safe to have an invulnerable populace, not even the Emperor had that advantage. Wracked anew with pained spasms as he thought that Lex would have insisted on the creation of one, Clark tried to hold silently still.

“The scan is complete, Your Majesty.”

He forced a nod through stiff and cramping muscles. The physician stepped away to confer with the Drygurs Molium and Thylene, the Ministers of Science and Health respectively. It was mere moments before Tal-Var, Drygur Thylene, laid the flat surface of a pressure injector against his bare sternum.

Clark had become accustomed to many new things, the least of which were the near instant results of Kryptonian medicine. He sighed with relief as Tal-Var surrendered his bedside to Noru Lor-Van. It still boggled his mind that the Drygur Molium was his great-aunt.

“By your grim visage, our situation is grave.”

He assumed Luthor expression number fifty-seven 'patient resolution.' Jonathon Kent would have a fit if he knew that Clark ruled through experience he had gained by watching Lex. Guilt gnawed at his insides at not having sent more than a few hasty messages in the past few years. He’d had no idea how busy a monarch could be.

“My liege, none of our attempts have been successful. The best we can do is suppress the reaction for a short time.”

“I see,” Clark uttered, even though he was still unsure as to the source of his illness.

Tal-Var stepped back up next to Noru Lor-Van. Briskly, he stated, “Bethgar, it is the Yuda-Kae. Even the royal presence must accede to its dictates.”

From the glare Noru leveled, there were more tactful ways to state the situation. Clark waited as his Drygur Molium was already returning her attention to him.

“Son of my brother’s daughter, may we speak in private?”

Clark tossed off one of the dismissive gestures he’d seen Lex use a thousand times. The room cleared with unparalleled swiftness. Finally, it was only Clark and Noru Lor-Van. His personal guard were a distant presence near the door.

“This has been happening for several loraxo. In the words of my Earth father, ‘It’s time to come clean’.”

Despite the equivalent of a royal command, Noru fetched herself a chair before settling at Clark’s side. They both knew he was too enamored of having blood relatives to become truly insistent with her.

“The Terran documents Kel-Nor retrieved indicated that you were considered to be barely of human majority.”

“That’s right, eighteen when I left.”

“Their efforts were to be commended. However, Kal-El, you had reached your twentieth amzet before you arrived on Daxam, before you even left Earth.”

While Clark appreciated the clarification as to his age, he didn’t see how it applied. Thought it was interesting to note that with the Kryptonian year being longer than the human one, he was older that Lex Luthor. How he wished he’d known that when his dad had cast doubts on their friendship due to the age difference.

“My illness, Aunt?”

She had delayed as long as possible. With another slight sigh, she began, “Centuries ago, Krypton faced a crisis. Our planet had become crowded; the cities began to block the skies. Even the integration of the League and the colonization of uninhabited worlds did not ease the press of a growing population.”

Clark resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Kryptonians were far too similar when telling stories to Lex talking about Alexander the Great.

“A change was placed within the populace. A genetic modification that prevented the pairing before the twentieth amzet and restricted the mating instinct to occur between a matched pair.”

“How?” Clark asked before reversing himself. “No, don’t tell me the scientific how-to. Just explain how this applies to me.”

“Your Majesty is experiencing the Yuda-Kae. Your body is protesting the absence of the Bythgar, the royal consort.”

Clark’s jaw dropped open. This was a big damn royal catch that he hadn’t been told of before now. Was this the source of his celibate high school years? A willing human thought process blocked by a programmed Kryptonian body? When he managed a reply, it was in Luthor voice number fourteen, icy cold ‘I am fast losing my nonexistent patience.’

“I do not have a royal consort. Neither will I consent to an arranged marriage.”

“Nor would I ask such of you, Nephew. Your symptoms will continue until you are within a planetary length of your Yuda-lan.”

Clark frowned, still not happy. “So I need to planet hop through the League, un-medicated, until the pain stops.”

Noru paused, then shook her head. “The chosen is always someone contacted after the twentieth amzet. All such have been brought to Daxam. Yet, your symptoms do not ease.”

“What happens if this being can’t be found?”

“The pains will continue unless within a planet’s proximity.”

“And if they ease? How do I know who it is?”

“The chosen cannot always be found. If they are not, then a Kryptonian’s life remains platonic.”

Clark wanted to curse and roil. Really, there would be no use. He closed his eyes, unsure. “What precisely am I to do about this?”

“As your twentieth amzet passed before your return, it is my belief that you must return to Earth.”

Clark met her calm, aged gaze. “I cannot rule the League from Earth.”

“Have you ever been happy with your position, or did you assume it purely from duty, my liege?”

He didn’t respond, but the truth was plain to see.

“Your destiny is elsewhere, Bethgar.”

***

“The incidents are becoming more frequent.”

There were many who found it odd that Lex Luthor spent his weekends in a small-town farmhouse. For his sake, there wasn’t anywhere he’d rather be.

“Any damage, son?” Jonathon frowned at the weariness obvious in Lex’ features. Only here, with him and Martha, did the boy allow his façade to slip away.

“Yes, again to one of my father’s former projects.”

Jonathon winced. None of them had shed a tear at the passing of Lionel Luthor. Lex, however, was working himself to the bone as he attempted to correct his father’s shady and occasionally outright illegal practices.

“The papers are calling him Superman.”

“And yet, no one knows who he is or how he does these things,” Lex replied to Martha.

Their meal subsided into silence and Lex was consumed by his thoughts. This Superman, like the Superboy of nearly a decade prior, was probably a meteor mutant. Someone infected before the clean-up and now active in their adulthood. Someone who, when they finally cracked, his employees would capture and attempt to cure.

It was unworthy of the Kents’ hospitality that he wished it was Clark, finally come home. Not that it would be much of a home to return to – his existence erased but for Lex’ memories.

When dinner had moved into coffee and the apple pie that Lex could never seem to resist, he couldn’t help but prod once again. It was a futile, masochistic gesture he undertook every month or so. But there were times he began to wonder if he truly remembered Clark Kent.

Or if he had finally hallucinated a best friend to fill that vacant post.

“Do you ever feel like something’s missing?”

“Of course not, sweetheart. We have you,” Martha remarked as she took his now empty plate. Dropping a kiss on his smooth scalp, she crossed to the kitchen sink.

Jonathon frowned. “I’m concerned there may have been long-term effects from your father’s attempt to institutionalize you. We may not have gotten you out soon enough.”

Wiping her hands on a towel, Martha fretted. “When I think of what might have happened if you hadn’t given us your power of attorney, Lex, I just…” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “I don’t believe in speaking ill of the deceased, but that man…”

“Only Dominic cried at his funeral,” Lex remarked with disdain. “You can be glad he’s dead. I certainly am.”

Jonathon, as was his habit when Lionel Luthor was mentioned, quickly found chores needed to be done in the barn. Lex smiled slightly at the sentiment that he have a safe drive back to Metropolis. He sipped from his rapidly cooling mug and watched Mrs. Kent pack the leftovers away. As usual, some would go into the Kent refrigerator and some home with him.

“Every meal, I cook like Paul Bunyan lives here. I wish I could stop, it’s a dreadful waste of money.”

Lex swallowed past the nostalgic tightness in his throat. He had a cook at the Smallville castle that occasionally did the same thing.

“Money is the one thing I can make sure never worries you,” he commented as he handed over his now empty mug.

“You don’t have to buy our affections, Lex. We’d still love you as our own son without it.”

He hugged her impulsively. It was a rare gesture from him. The faint scent of laundry soap, as it always did, brought the memory of a larger, stronger body in his arms for the rare, chaste embrace.

“I don’t have to, which is precisely why I enjoy it.”

She held onto him a moment longer. As he drove off, he looked back. Waving him off, as they had each Sunday night of the last five years, the Kents watched him go.

***

“The treaty is satisfied, Your Grace. A frequency of once each terran week shall meet their terms.”

Having known up front that his ‘Superman’ activities were the price for permanent Kryptonian residence, Clark wasn’t surprised. Still…

“I’m not your Bethgar anymore, Noru. You can address me by my name.”

She smiled mysteriously. “I could, child of my niece. Or I could address you by the honor which our Bythgar and the High Council have bestowed.”

Clark groaned as he laid his head on the highly glossed surface of his desk. After a moment of internal preparation, he indicated with a hand gesture for her to continue.

“After finding precedence for your actions in the history of this planet, you have been deemed Duke of Terra. Once informed that such title has negated the Herrenvolk threat of invasion and colonization, the leaders of this planet were pleased to confirm the title.”

Clark stared, downtrodden, at his reflection in the mahogany. “I’m the most known secret presence on this planet.”

“But you are not alone.”

Suddenly guilty, he replied, “I would be fine on my own. You didn’t need to join me in my exile, Noru.”

Allowing herself to show a rare gesture of affection to this young man, she briefly touched her hand to his shoulder. “Our Bythgar has long negotiated League politics. My own mate is long dead and I have no offspring. It is an honor to accompany the child of my brother’s daughter in his settlement.”

Clark smiled slightly. He would never again be the naïve young man he’d been before he’d known the weight of an empire, even briefly. He was, however, at ease on Earth in a way he’d never been on Daxam. This alone comforted the doubts Noru Lor-Van had experienced during his abdication.

“Rest, Kal-El. Kel-Nor will arrive tomorrow with the weekly dispatch.”

He grinned as she shut the door behind herself. She had to have held that Duke thing for a moment it would be most effective. His grin faded as the silence of the room soaked him. He’d once felt only awe at the grandeur of Lex’ chosen office. Now he understood why those vast empty spaces were often filled with loud music.

***

Mercy handed over a cup of coffee, the Daily Planet, The Inquisitor, and then stepped back into her usual attentive posture. Lex knew that if she was handling the day’s start, then Hope was in the outer office. The pair functioned as incredibly skilled executive aides and equally talented – and deadly – bodyguards.

It had taken mere weeks of Clark’s absence for Lex to realize he needed professional protection. They’d done their job admirably, both against his father’s henchmen and other opponents.

Sipping too quickly from the scalding cup, the taste buds would be healed long before lunch, Lex flipped the Inquisitor open first. It was always best to know what the competition was doing and he’d inherited the Daily Planet with the rest of his father’s empire.

Knowing well he was listening, Mercy started the morning report. “Damage control has been completed for the most recent incident. As before, the project involved was not on the books. The managers claim not to have realized you wanted all of Lionel’s illegal efforts dismantled, despite repeated company-wide purges. The standard warnings have been re-issued. Public Relations is spinning the usual platitude regarding rogue employees and we will be rechecking all non-LexCorp integrated subsidiaries.”

Lex nodded, knowing the ‘we’ in question was his paired female protection. If any errant departments were smart, they would surrender quickly.

“The dissolution of Luthor Sciences is complete,” Mercy continued. “At the same time, the authority of presence of LexLabs is finalized. This integration went smoothly. There’s a contract for a heart treatment awaiting final signatures. The press is all over the leaked possibilities and eagerly awaiting LexCorp’s production report.”

“Company?” Lex asked as he closed the Inquisitor. As usual, it was little more than a supermarket tabloid. Though, admittedly, they had stopped speculating on his potential bastard children and focused their recent efforts on Superman. He awaited her response, refuge once again found within his coffee mug.

“TKL Technologies.”

Reaching for the Daily Planet, Lex’ brow furrowed. “That’s the fourth contract in as many weeks. What do we know about them?”

Mercy flipped to a different file on her palm computer. She’d anticipated his curiosity. “TKL Technologies. Think tank with no production facilities and little confirmed about an employee roster. The suspicion is that they quietly fund freelance research for resale and production. So far, all four of their contracts have come to LexCorp companies.”

“Odd,” Lex remarked, not yet looking at the Daily Planet he’d spread on his desk.

“Exceedingly,” Mercy agreed. “Bidding has been extremely competitive. The company is run out of a private home here in Metropolis. Apparently, it’s the president and CEO’s. We’ve been able to confirm only two residents, him and a Nora Lorvan. So far, Calvin Clark Elliott is a mystery. The government file is going to be tough to crack. There is a rumor he holds a ducal title, but so far, I’ve not been able to find a connection to any known European family.”

Mercy paused, just becoming aware that her boss – for the first time ever – was paying her no attention whatsoever. “Sir?”

Lex looked up from the paper on his desk. His face was tight with unknown emotion. “Reschedule my appointments for the day. I don’t know how long I’ll be next door.”

Mercy stared after him as he hurried out. Hope would follow him from the office so safety wasn’t a concern. But the only thing ‘next door’ was the Daily Planet. What could Lex have seen on the front page that could have inspired such hurry? Curious, she looked for herself. Both the main and sub headlines were obvious. Neither provided her immediate illumination.

“Superman revealed! Kal-El, last survivor of Krypton, makes new home on Earth.”

***

While it wasn’t unusual to see Lex Luthor at the Daily Planet since he did own the place, it was odd for him to storm into the newsroom like an invading general. Lois Lane, ensconced at her desk and gloating over her career-making exclusive, watched him slam into the editor’s office with a slight wince.

Lex had a tendency towards melodrama. She knew this Superman had been targeting Lionel’s leftovers. But surely Lex wouldn’t hold the story against her? Then again, he was a slightly odd duck.

Lost in not-quite PG daydreams about Metropolis’ own alien savior, it took a moment before she realized that Perry White was at her desk. Ignoring her suspicions as to why Lex had hired the former sot, Lois smiled as sweetly as she was capable. “Chief?”

He didn’t return the look, Luthor’s presence turning him even more serious than usual. “My office. Now.”

Lois stood, the center of newsroom attention as she smoothed her blazer and crossed to the closed door. She wasn’t surprised when Perry failed to follow. Neither was it a shock to see Lex sprawled in the editor’s chair. Lois smirked and closed the door behind herself.

“Lois,” Lex bit off the name with distaste. “Please, have a seat.”

“It’s been awhile, Lex,” she noted after settling across the desk from him.

“Not long enough,” Lex admitted.

Lois grinned at that, her smile answered with the slightest easing of the Luthor façade. Their amiable dislike was well-known. The roots, in her short-term residence with the Kents to distress his plant manager and eventually money-greased return to school, were less well-known.

“How about I pretend to be terrified into submission and you tell me why you’re here?”

Lex wasted no time in replying to Lois’ question, the customary impudence ignored. “I want a copy of everything you know about Superman.”

“Read the article.”

“Not good enough.”

His swiftly bitten off response brought Lois’ eyebrows closer to her hairline. There was something more here. It would probably make a fantastic story if she figured out exactly what it was.

“I can’t give you something I don’t have. The facts available were printed.”

Lex stared at her with that too damned perceptive gaze. “Schoolgirl crushes have no place in business, Ms. Lane. Don’t ever forget he’s an alien.”

Lois winced at the precise jab before hitting back with one of her own. “If that’s how you feel, care to give me a quote about the alien menace?”

Lex smirked as he rose and crossed around the desk. He leaned in, speaking to her ear as she refused to face him. He said, simply, “No.”

The door closed behind him too sharply to have been shut but too precisely to have been slammed. “Bastard,” Lois hissed into the now quiet office.

***

Clark's ears had quickly become accustomed to hearing calls for Superman. Almost subconsciously, he registered them, listened to the surrounding events, and decided whether to respond. There was only so much a single man, even a Kryptonian, could do. This wasn’t the viewpoint of the young man he’d once been; it was the necessity of the person he’d been made by time and experience.

Reviewing the fourth contract between TKL Technologies and LexCorp, he resisted the urge to smirk at the impatiently waiting Vice President. These deals had made both companies a lot of money. If he wanted to take a nap, the Vice President may look annoyed but wouldn’t do anything other than ask if he wanted a blanket.

His musing was interrupted by a voice that demanded his full attention. This wasn’t a scream, or a bellow even, for Superman. This was a mere, quiet, whispered request.

“Help me, Clark.”

The papers bent under his too tight grasp. His hearing reached out, seeking the familiar voice, as he smoothed the wrinkles.

“Up on the ledge, Luthor.”

Two men, armed. Five more, he couldn’t tell. Where were Lex’ bodyguards? How had they gotten the businessman onto the roof of his own building?

“Is everything acceptable, Mr. Elliott?”

Clark looked up, unpleasantly recalled to the here and now. He blinked, sliding the papers in his briefcase as he stood abruptly. “Yes, of course. I’ll sign and have the contract couriered over.”

The Vice President was gaping after Clark as he strode out of the office. Lex’ voice was still echoing in his ear as he blurred into super speed.

“Anytime, Clark. Please.”

“Jump, Luthor.”

“What?!”

“Jump, or fall after I shoot you.”

There was a faint rustle as Lex turned to face open air. Again, the whisper reached Clark’s ears. “Now would be good, Clark.”

His passage echoed among the buildings, rattling windows, as he heard only wind whistling past a falling body.

Lex wouldn’t scream. He’d been calmly ordered off his building and into freefall. Still, he clung to the idea that Superman was Clark and Clark would save him.

The sudden jolt out of gravity’s grasp was a shock. Lex opened his eyes to see the blue-clad arms around his waist and the red boots anchoring his Gucci footwear.

For the first time in five long years, Lex smiled widely. He looked over the skyline of Metropolis passing below him with calm serenity. Then, the trip was over. His savior was gone without a word after depositing him on the now secured LexCorp roof.

***

Clark slammed through the doors to Noru’s chosen office. Still clad as Superman, he was a colorful picture. The oddity was his cape. Rather than snapping briskly at his heels, it had been removed from his shoulders and was wrapped around his waist.

Noru Lor-Van arched a brow, impassive in the face of his obvious displeasure. “Something vexes you, Your Grace?”

Clark continued to glower accusingly in her direction. “I have identified my Yuda-lan,” he finally snarled.

“Then it is a truly glorious day,” was her calm reply.

With a growl, Clark stormed back out of the office. He intentionally kept to a normal, human pace. Unfortunately, even extending the trip didn’t abate his still-growing frustration. Stepping quickly out of his garish costume, he appreciated that his lack of concern didn’t cause damage. Kryptonian materials could stand a Kryptonian’s wear and tear.

He slipped into the enlarged shower stall in his en suite. To his overheated skin, the cool water was icy. But not even that abuse was enough to ameliorate his problem.

No one had warned him on exactly how he would know his Yuda-lan. He’d imagined a careful yearning, the adoration in abeyance he’d felt for Lana Lang in his teenage years. The reality was impossible to ignore. In the moment he’d halted Lex Luthor’s fall, he’d known.

His senses had detected that ineffable residue of spicy Lex. Almost immediately, he’d suffered a raging hard-on. Keeping that physical evidence from revealing itself had been a feat.

Just the memory of Lex’s slim yet sturdy form in his arms caused Clark to throb anew. Moaning, he took hold of himself. Reaching out, he spun the water temperature to a heat that scoured and seeped into his tense muscles.

He’d never imagined that the Yuda-kae would lead him to Lex Luthor. Oddly, it didn’t disturb him. His horizons were, after all, vastly expanded from the small town boy he’d been.

Blessed with an erection for the first time, Clark explored himself. Silently, he thanked the genetic heritage that kept him from revealing this to a human girl. He’d seen pornography. He had been in high school and Pete had older brothers. This firm flesh between his legs only generally resembled its human counterpart.

The once lax shaft used only for urination had lengthened and swollen. It was tubular, yes. But, it was without the delineation of capped head or foreskin. Instead, a ribbed pattern vaguely reminding him of a double helix surrounded the shaft. The design narrowed into a rounded point.

Clark stroked himself, groaning at the sensitivity of each raised spot. Reaching below, his seeking fingers confirmed the most obvious difference. Unlike a human male, he had no external testes. Braced against the shower wall, his questing hand continued to explore.

He had a general grasp of Kryptonian physiology. Even so, he was mildly shocked at how quickly his body demonstrated its willingness to yield to a male lover.

“Lex,” he cried out as the sensation of his own fingers brushing inside brought him to a swift, first orgasm.

The still pouring water washed away all evidence as Clark regained himself. He was amazed. He’d felt no guilt at using the thought of an old friend to bring himself off. Wallowing in the idea that Lex may accept him, that the enticing man would take him to bed, Clark’s shower devolved into an event of masturbatory hedonism.

***

Mercy was at a loss to explain her boss’ exceedingly good mood. He should, quite understandably, be ranting about the prior day’s failure in security. He should be furious at the mistake that necessitated an alien’s rescue.

Instead, he was humming?

Lex finished his enthusiastic greeting of his executive receptionist. He tossed a devastating grin at a baffled Hope before preceding Mercy into his office.

They both noted the papers on his desk at the same time. Despite Mercy’s immediate urging of caution, Lex lifted the business card paper-clipped to the top of the packet. He turned it, reading with an amused quirk to his lips.

After Mercy gave the morning run-down, he handed her the papers. The business card was still in Lex’ hand.

“Make sure legal knows the latest TKL contract has been signed. Call the CEO’s office and schedule a dinner meeting at my penthouse as soon as he’s available.”

Staring absently after her departing figure, Lex finally tucked the business card in his inner suit pocket. It was the last clue, tying together all he now knew. The words echoed long ago and he smiled anew.

‘Lex. Keep to planes, or you’ll never be out of my debt. The Maniac in the Cape.’

***

Clark could have lied and said he wasn’t the slightest bit uneasy. Truthfully, he was borderline terrified. Nervous that he’d be rejected, attack his friend, that he’d underestimated Lex’ ability to recover from injury. Calling his name implied that Lex remembered, but did he remember everything?

The elevator slid to a smooth stop, taunting him with his hesitation. Clark exited, not really having needed the careful directions to find the penthouse door. Resisting the sudden urge to x-ray the walls for more information, he knocked.

The door was opened with a telling swiftness. Lex’ choice had echoed Clark’s desire for casual. They were wearing similar black slacks and loafers. The difference was in the sweaters – Clark’s, slate-blue cashmere, Lex’, eggplant silk.

Despite the pause, and the smile that teased at the edges of his mouth, Lex cleared his throat. “Welcome, Mr. Elliott. Or, do you prefer Calvin?”

Clark stepped closer to Lex, who hadn’t yielded the entry. He smiled widely into the face of the only slightly shorter man. “It’s always Clark to you, Lex.”

Their hesitation broke apart as Lex’ smile beamed. In a moment reminiscent of that day when Lex was rescued and came to the Kent farm, they enfolded each other in a firm, thankful embrace. It held none of the bitter grief of their prior contact, just before Clark had left.

“Welcome home, Clark.”

Not trusting himself to speak, Clark simply nodded. Seeing the careful grasp on his friend’s emotions, Lex ushered him inside.

“Come on, dinner’s ready.”

Clark followed him silently down the hall. He’d reined in his emotions and had a general idea that his incipient erection was momentarily at bay. Once at the living room, he took one glance at the white cardboard on every surface before matching Lex’ pleased grin.

“I haven’t had pizza since you brought one on the flight to Virgil Swann’s funeral.”

Lex frowned for a moment. Then, clasping Clark on the arm, he beckoned him to sit. “It’s about time you had one, then.”

They settled, examining one another closely over the casual formalities of a meal. It was odd. Lex was no longer the man of the world, mentoring a small-town youth. They were equals now, gentlemen of similar station and prospects.

“You still eat like a starving lumberjack,” Lex commented as he handed over a glass of wine.

“But never in polite company,” Clark retorted. He sipped lightly from his glass. “Your cellar’s excellent, as I always suspected.”

“And now you’re old enough to find out,” Lex quipped as he resumed his drink.

Clark laughed. “Actually,” he paused as Lex lifted a brow enquiringly. “Kryptonian’s age differently than humans. I’ve always been about eight months older than you.”

Lex shook his head. “Ironic,” he muttered, thoughts of statutory charges and orange jumpsuits firmly banished.

Clark, having finished three full pizzas in mere minutes, sprawled back. He hadn’t missed that Lex didn’t eat. It hadn’t been unusual for the bald man to order him meals like this. “Not that I don’t appreciate dinner, but I assume you received the contract?”

Lex smirked. “And your note.”

It was Clark’s turn to smirk, which he did with a scary similarity. “I didn’t think you were in need of a truck.”

Startled into laughter, Lex relaxed even further. “I have missed your friendship, Clark.”

Suddenly serious, Clark sat forward. His elbows on knees, the wine glass dangled loosely in a deceptively casual grasp. Eyes, changeable with emotion, were intensely focused on Lex. “I can’t be your friend.”

Lex froze, his face carefully blanking. He didn’t move, still deceptively relaxed. “There are no more secrets in the way. I know you trust me.”

Clark stood. He abandoned his glass on the low table that had sat between them. Crossing to the windows that overlooked the Metropolis skyline, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, careless of the tailored lines. “I can’t…”

It was a plaintive, unexplained plea.

Lex rose, unwilling to let go so easily. He moved to stand beside Clark. For once, he didn’t look out the window and identify what he owned. Reaching out, he put one hand on Clark’s hunched shoulder.

“I still believe we have a destiny… Just tell me why that can’t be.”

Clark nearly quivered beneath the touch. He hunched further into himself, then shrugged off the hand. Before Lex could form more than the vaguest expression of hurt, Clark turned. Lex hesitated at the focused look as Clark raised his hands to cup the pale, smooth skin of his skull.

“Clark?” he questioned just before his lips were claimed in a rapacious kiss. The Kryptionian didn’t kiss with hesitancy. He mapped Lex’ mouth with single-minded intensity. Stunned, the longtime Metropolis resident merely accepted the intimate invasion.

The taller man was drawing back, regret coloring his single chance to taste this man. Finally realizing his youthful desires were being served to him, Lex reached up to take ahold of Clark’s hair. His fingers grasped punishingly tight in the dark locks. If Lex’ partner had been human, he’d have moaned in pain.

Clark’s moan was pure pleasure as Lex returned the kiss with dedicated ferocity.

Their embrace was a frantic, desperate outpouring of long-repressed need. Lex gasped for air as Clark stared at him. There was an ineffable sense of otherness in this moment, a confirmation that this man was truly alien. Clark growled a phrase in an unrecognized language.

Lex’ pupils opened further with his growing lust. The blue was nearly eclipsed and he panted as Clark spoke in what could only be his native tongue. The silk covering Lex’ chest gave way with a liquid tear.

Clark lowered himself, learning the smooth planes of his lover’s body. Shrugging free of the expensive, and completely ruined fabric, Lex sank his hands back into Clark’s hair. It took quite a sharp yank to draw the questing lips and tongue back from his torso.

“Bed… now,” Lex growled.

Grinning with predatory intent, Clark stood and lifted his lover in a smooth, single motion. Quickly adapting, Lex wrapped his still clothed legs around the sturdy waist. As he focused his attention on learning the longed for taste of Clark’s skin, there was a rush of too-cool air along his back.

Dropped on his own bed, fully nude with incomprehensible speed, Lex didn’t care that they’d likely ruin his new duvet cover. Clark was naked.

Lex wasn’t sure he should be quite this turned on that he was about to have sex outside his species. This man, this Kryptonian, could kill him without the slightest additional effort. If Clark chose not to stop should Lex ask, there would be nothing he could do. The power, the command of that bare form should not be this lust-inducing.

Then there was a faint flicker in Clark’s eyes. It was the farmboy he’d once been. The one who’d been taught there was no sex without love. Lex reached out, beckoning. He wouldn’t let Clark find his guilt anew over this need.

“Make love to me, Clark.”

For all the times either had thought of this, the reality was much improved. Their connection was electric, sparking with a heat that wouldn’t allow this to be a leisurely exploration.

Unhesitant, Clark leaned over Lex partially and took his cock deep into his throat. Lex’ lungs locked over a cry at the exquisitely shocking pleasure. No time that he’d envisioned this had he ever predicted he’d be controlled by Clark. But that was precisely what was happening.

Clark rose up, straddling Lex’ hips as the slender man lay prone. The dark-haired man was speaking, muttering in his alien language as his ass hovered over Lex’ cock. Lex stared in concern, about to protest, as his erection was squeezed by the entrance to his lover’s body.

It was pure, molten heat. Temperature higher than a human’s, Lex had been anointed with barely enough saliva to ease the way. Not that he wouldn’t have happily rubbed himself raw for this chance.

“Clark!”

Lex cried out as the other man began to move. He tried to warn him, to give some indication that his stamina was already shot. The words wouldn’t come, but Clark seemed to understand anyway. He leaned, changing the angle and squeezing internal muscles in a sanity-stealing massage.

“I’m yours, Lex. I’ve always been yours.”

Lex came, his cries of completion swallowed by Clark’s kiss. They fed at each other’s mouth. For Lex, some of the desperation had eased but it was quickly becoming obvious that this fire wouldn’t be so easily quenched.

Panting as his cock slipped from Clark’s body, Lex answered the question asked by hazel eyes. “I love you.”

Clark eased him to his side before curling around his back. Lex closed his eyes, content for the first time in too many years. Pressing back, he humped into the turgid length against his ass.

“I want you,” Clark groaned into his ear, mouthing at his neck. “I need to be inside you.”

Lex trembled. “Then take me… but go slowly, it’s been a long time.”

Clark milked his erection. The oozing liquid was as alien as his prick. Silky cyan was spread onto and around Lex’ quivering anus. Noting for himself the tightness and tension, Clark took his time. He held his lover nestled into his body.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise this will be only pleasure.”

“Not that,” Lex panted as Clark breached him for the first time. “Couldn’t stand,” he gasped as the thick fingers continued to work at opening him, “to have anyone touch me after you left.”

Clark pressed a kiss to the bare shoulder in front of his lips. “Oh, Lex,” he whispered. He hadn’t considered that a Kryptonite mutated human, someone whose wish was for the essence of the Kryptonian life, would be affected by the Yuda-kae. But, perhaps Clark only flattered himself that this was what Lex had meant.

Lex cried out as his prostate was brushed against, his erection beginning to return. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

“Never again,” Clark vowed as he eased his narrow tip past the loosened guardian muscles. Lex exhaled as his lover’s cock sank slowly into him. Fully seated, Clark moved his hand onto Lex’ hip to hold them together.

They began to move, writhing and pumping in a rhythm as old as time. Lex, pushed once more to the edge, came first from the unaccustomed sensations of a Kryptonian erection. Clark, grunting, humped into his lover as he came.

Lex eased further back into the embrace, shuddering as Clark twitched inside him once more. “Stay,” he asked quietly.

“Forever,” Clark promised in return.


End file.
